The Thorny Vines of Roses sometimes have Deep Roots
by Happy1K1nob1
Summary: We all have a past, the Horsemen, most of all. But now, Team RWBY and their new friends will find themselves facing hints of their respective pasts in a common enemy. Welp, at least they have raincoats for the coming bloodbaths. [Sequel to A Winter's Rose Meets a RWBY]
1. Prologue: Caravan

So! Here we are, the sequel at last! Sorry if it took absolutely forever, but it's here at least. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Hmmm, there seems to be an upset amongst the locals. A train accident? A gathering? There will need to be something done.**

 **But the Horsemen are not ready. They are still distant, luxuriating in Egypt. What to do...**

 ***crack!***

 **... *ROAR!***

* * *

Blink. Stare. Blink. Stare.

Close eyes. Sigh. Open tired eyes to stare some more.

"Ma'am?"

Eyebrows raised. Slowly, she turned around to face tired quicksilver eyes towards the intruder. Someone she knew, someone concerned, someone into many special secrets of hers.

She turned back. Not dangerous enough to bring her out of tired contemplation.

"Ma'am, you need to get yourself some sleep."

Blink. Glance at cup. Alcohol never helped, but she'd been trying. Maybe a little too hard. Glass was empty.

Dry swallow. Watch as once again, two of her daughters smiled and laughed, teasing each other.

All the worse that it was a good memory, because it only served to remind her once again that one was shot dead in her arms and the other is declared KIA, but was actually missing. Both were huntresses. Both mothers.

Cold touched her hand, and she reflexively gripped. Glance. Clear liquid in simple double old fashioned glass, assistant's hand on the back of hers.

She mechanically raised the glass to her lips and began to swallow, then nearly choked on it. She gave her assistant a surprised, accusing glance. She smiled back innocently. "What? I brought you some water."

"This," She began, indicating the clear liquid in her hand. "Is not water."

"Yeah, but 'Vodka' means 'Water' in Russian." Still the innocent smile.

Her vision was already swimming. She wasn't a hard drinker in any sense of the word (unless it's some sort of sports drink or water after a heavy workout). "Mimi," She didn't get to say anything else before Mimi decided to stop her with a kiss.

They stayed that way for a while.

A noise perked an ear (instinctive reaction to sudden sounds), and she smoothly slid a finger in-between Mimi's lips and hers. She cocked her head and tried her best to hone in on the sound.

"What is it?" Mimi asked.

Eyes narrowed in further concentration. Another sound, a moan, and she started to panic. Next second, before her panic became obvious to her assistant, a second moan followed by a grunt, and suddenly the familiarity clicked into place and she groaned and settled back into her chair. She shook her head in fond exasperation. "Just George and his other in a closet nearby."

Mimi gave a disgusted grunt. They knew each other well enough that Rin could immediately identify the grunt. Not disgusted by the fact that George was in love with another man, that issue had almost never shown in IDT. "Honestly, are those two ever going to show themselves as trustworthy enough to have a single hotel room to themselves with _out_ breaking the furniture?!"

Rin chuckled. "Probably not. And it doesn't help that Max is a half Rabbit Faunus, half Lab Rat Faunus." Then she felt her shirt be pulled off her boobs, then underneath, right before they were attacked, pulling a groan from her, and with the alcohol in her system, she wasn't about to complain. "Of course, it's not like we're any-" she gasped in surprise and arousal before finishing her sentence. " _Better._ " she then huffed at her assistant who was giving her such an innocent expression. "Which is _entirely_ your fault, I might add."

Mimi just gave her a demented grin and before putting that mouth to more pleasurable uses.

She lay back, happy for the moment as her assistant, the only person left who cared in a personal way, gave her something she knew she needed but could never ask for.

Because she was Rin, CEO and Founder of Ice Dus-Tech, the leading company creating amazing, if controversial technologies and processes, and she was almost the baddest motherfucker in the entirety of Vale. Perhaps all of Remnant. And she would prevent The End from coming even if she had to spear herself to do so.

As for 'almost'?

That title belongs to the most powerful women on Earth.

The Horsemen.

* * *

"Come on Rose!"

Headphones went flying and a single quicksilver orb glared at the blonde for daring to interrupt her concentration.

Well, let's be honest here. She wasn't really doing anything important, but did her favorite brawler _really_ have to knock her expensive and _good Christmas Gift_ headphones off her head?

She sighed. "What is it you wanted, Dragon?"

The happy expression died off to concern. "I've been calling for you for the past 5 minutes. What's wrong?"

She closed her eyes and shrugged. "Nothing much. Just," She sighed. "Just trying to find Summer."

"It's been a few years, Rose." She said softly.

Rose just chuckled, knowing her tone as being slightly defeat-est. "Yeah, but we both know we've been gone for longer from each other with less skill and less experience and we've turned out okay."

"...Yeah."

"Besides, she's out there, her rifle shining in the sun, sword on her back and whip on her hips, probably bloodstained breeches, just like how her white cloak must be by now. Though, it's probably black, not white or brown or red."

Ash Dragon didn't respond, even as her nose itched, leather gloved hands tightened and creaked, and toes tapped against the floor.

They sat there, quietly looking out at the stars.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"How did that song go again?"

"Dust or to gold, but you will remember me?"

"Yeah, that one." Man, that was an _old_ song. Not _quite_ as old as they are, but they'd heard it in their teens, way before the greater majority of their stuff ever came to fruition.

"Feeling nostalgic? Old? Decrepit as our mistakes try to make us pay for them?"

"Kinda. You?"

"Oh yeah. Although, Vermillion was a long time ago."

"And VU even longer. Though I hope you still have that jello recipe."

"Of course I do! What kind of child would I be if I didn't?"

"The old kind?"

"Hey!"

* * *

"Remember, we're getting a move on in an hour!" He shouted. Shoulders held squarely, worn breastplate trying to glisten in the sun past the damage and 'polish' of metal and stone giving rugburn, greaves still more or less grass-stained as his gloves tried to stay true to their original color of Day-Glo Orange (they were now embarassingly Sakura Pink) past the oil stains from helping to maintain the various trucks they'd salvaged, and gleaming shoulder-length straw-blonde hair that several of the women were jealous of even stuck to his body through sweat as it was (in his mind, it made him look like a yellow-haired indian, or a hippie, and he hadn't gotten around to getting it cut like his son).

Grunts of exertion nearby had him turning his head. A couple of the girls were trying to get a large wooden crate onto the back of the flatbed they were next to.

"Trying" being the operative word. They'd probably over-packed it, _again_ , which meant it was a little too heavy to lift as-is. He shook his head and went over to help them out. It took them a few tries, but they finally managed it.

"Thanks dad!" The young woman waved at him as she ran off, smiling as she ran to meet her friends before the caravan's moving time. He smiled after her, wondering again how he could be so lucky. He was the father of several beautiful, kind girls, and a father figure to most of the caravan, and almost every single person here loved him.

But then his smile faded as he remembered the bad hands and hard pitches life had thrown at him. Seeing what happened to Rose after her failures with The Hunters of Vermilion. Arella. Watching as a good friend of his died by Grimm because of a stupid mistake.

The fact that, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't escape one of the most recent legacies of the family. Runaways, who seek to prove themselves. So far, they always seem to come back improved, more mature, more of a man or woman or soldier or warrior or angel or whatever than they were when they left.

He did not want this to start to go wrong with his son. Jaune was always a man in his eyes, from the way he always took a mature stance, even if he always felt he had to stand on his own and match the legacy set by his family, great-grandfather on down.

John had left on his own journey years back, and come back improved, and thoroughly embarrassed. But, he was humbled, and this time when leadership fell to him, he was prepared, and he was a better man for his woman. The foundling warrior was much impressed with how he'd improved, and loved him all the more.

After smacking him around a bit first, of course. She was always the better fighter.

He could only hope and pray that El Shaddai would watch over his son, and bring him back a better man than he'd left, and that he, John Arc of the Enders Family, leader of Hunter's Haven and (more recently) the caravan of Haven, would be a man worthy enough to have a son of a quality that could outshine anything the monsters of Enders could ever produce. Because he knew, from the bottom of his heart, that Jaune truly did fit that mold. Being the youngest of 8 was not something that John could understand easily (being an only child), nor could he help but feel that it had worked, in some slight way, to grind the man he was down, lower his self-esteem and individuality, the good parts of his pride, and make him more subservient, and that this journey would bring back some of the self-worth they had unintentionally worn away.

At some point, he'd wandered off, and now he was sitting on a cliff, watching the sky as it lightened to a yawning pink from midnight blue. Well, not pink. He hated pink, almost as much as Rozeer always had. But this? This was more... well, Dawn covers it well enough, but for this particular moment Salmon covers it more perfectly.

"So, what's on your mind?" A familiar female voice cut through his mind-fog.

He looked up, blond hair in the way for a short second before he saw concerned yet vibrant olivine eyes he could get lost in above a face and smile sunnier than the star that shone upon their broken moon. He gave her a slightly watery smile as he spoke. "What makes you think I'm thinking about something? I could be thinking about, well, I could have nothing at all in my head."

Her smile grew a little brighter for a second at his joke before dimming as her concern returned, and probably from the fact that she'd been trying to keep him from self-deprecation for years with little success, and his words just now rubbed her face in them a little. "We're about to move out, we all know it. There's something on your mind and people are worried. But, since we're pretty much done with packing and fueling, the most pressing concern is the song."

His brow furrowed against his will for a second. "What song?"

She sat down next to him at the edge of the cliff and said, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Every time we leave a campsite, we have a song which you lead us in." Well that was news to him. "In fact, there's a betting pool on which song you'll sing and we even keep one flatbed somewhat clear for the dancers."

His head reared back a little as he gave his loving wife a very odd look. "Dancers? What dancers?"

She sighed exasperatedly. "When you asked them they said it was so they could watch around for Grimm, but everyone knows they just want to dance to the music."

"Really?" He asked, genuinely astonished. "Why hasn't anyone told me?"

She gave him yet another look. This one said, "I love you, but you are a complete idiot, and everybody knows it. Shamelessly."

Then her mouth moved to form the words, "There's a betting pool there too. Several bets involve you never finding out that they dance as everyone's getting moving, because they love the adrenaline of dancing to music on a fast-moving vehicle in the open air. The only real reason you never noticed was because you are completely oblivious."

He blinked at her, trying to process.

She sighed at him. "How long did it take you to realize that I liked you before I _told_ you?"

He opened his mouth, closed it to think, then sighed in defeat. "Yeah, you're right. Completely clueless."

"So, whatcha thinkin' of?" Another mature female voice asked as she plopped herself down on his left.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to hide it with the Valkyrie matriarch questioning him alongside his lovely wife, he sighed and gave in. Sort of. "Thoughts. Worries. Remembering teachers and lessons."

"And what was the focus more on today?" A solidly manly voice asked behind him. "Perhaps how even centuries later, a person can know your name? Or perhaps of war, and leadership?"

For some reason, that tickled his brain, and his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head back to look up, and up, and _up_ at the man behind him, Ren's father, Bruce, was looking at him like a particular type of bug or Grimm. Or like he wanted something... "Are you trying to make a suggestion for our 'leaving song'?"

"Told ya he'd take Pyhrric telling him to find out." Darcy told the towering slab of manly muscle smugly.

"Shush you." The patient man replied to the woman he sought to marry. They were both single, after their respective others' passings, and since the children were off to learn...

"Well, I think that the mistakes we make can make others remember us." John said in reply to Bruce's question as he prepared to stand, which was then cut off by said martial artist picking him up by the armpits and landing him solidly on his feet.

"Good." Darcy said with an authoritative nod. "Because I can't dance to the words 'Come with me now' nearly so easily as the others, and I want to dance today." she froze, realizing what she'd just said in her leader's presence.

Said leader just chuckled. "For that, you get Grimm-Watching duty on the empty flatbed." He said to the armored "bunny" with a sly smile.

She visibly deflated with a relieved "phew". Like she'd dodged a bullet or something. I mean, really, she could be just as airheaded as he himself was sometimes.

His smile turned to a full on grin as he saw his traveling tribe packing up and awaiting his orders. He was truly proud of them. "Alright, people, let's hit the road! Grimm-watchers, to your flatbed! We need to be extra-careful today!" He said, though he tried for an oddly knowing tone as he directed people to the flatbed, which he could now see how some of the scuff-marks had been left.

A cheer went up and he went over to his old, beat-up, and somewhat rusty homemade but still sturdy vehicle (specifically rebuilt to closely resemble his old Subaru Forester, painted silver with rust-colored accents) and climbed in on the left, with his lovely wife in the navigator's "shotgun" position (which, funnily enough, she had made a shotgun just for travelling in that seat) and started the engine with a satisfying growl before he clicked on the intercom and loudspeakers before gunning the engine, which purred into a roar as he started to sing, with his wife starting the song with some humming.

And then, top of their lungs, they shamelessly sang along, even if they were somewhat off-tune.

Even as the words to Fall Out Boy made him remember all his friends, his family left behind in the good ol' U.S. of A., the Hunters he'd met, worked with, and lost. Including Summer Rose.

Even as all the bad memories came to mind, they also faded away just as quickly, the strength of Centuries also giving him good things to remember, like his favorite quartet. Katherine, Ashley, _Doctor_ Kalt. His little Rosey-poo.

And then The Glitch Mob came on with Our Demons, and he grinned at his wife. It was one of the good playlists on, and they were going to enjoy it as much as they possibly could.

And no matter what the songs may remind them of, their mistakes, the legends they'd left behind them, the monsters and demons they have created, the years they have lived good or ill, the jubilation that they've had so far can and will outshine it all.

And unbeknownst to him, yet more was to come, hardship and triumph.


	2. Chapter 1: Trumpets and Breakfast

I'll be honest with you, take 1 of this scene (after the bold) was crap. I mean, don't get me wrong it _was_ good, but it switched POVs like nobody's business, no line breaks or anything. It made perfect sense to me, but to you guys, the readers, it would probably be extremely confusing. It started with Third-person to Ozpin, then a sort of Third-Omniscient over Rose and her "Family", then back to Ozzymandias, then to wavering between Snow and Velvet, then back to Oz.

So yeah, that was a thing. And it has thus been banished to the fires of Internet's Lost Files ignomity.

Also, distractability plus new games plus writer's block needing me to focus on something else for a time plus the ability to just let this sit for three months or less at a time between updates/work means it's really easy to put it off. Sorry.

* * *

 **So. You're here.**

 _ **Indeed I am. Why are you so**_ **surprised?**

 **Bitch.**

An eyebrow was raised. _**Is it really time for name-calling?**_ Amused. Bitch.

 **I wasn't calling you a name, you _are_ a bitch. ** Not that he'll admit it, but he _was_ insulting her. Then again, he's a dog, and she's a 'woman' who insulted his master so... **Is there a reason you're here?**

 _ **Awww, is the poor widdle baby scared?**_

 **Nope, not at all. Matter of fact, I'm feeling a little hungry.**

 _ **Awww, missing your kibbles and bits, little** **guy?**_

 ***Roar*** *stomp stomp stomp*

* * *

So, another day, another dollar. Another brightly sunny morning in the country of Vale in the land of Remnant. And all was quiet in this early hour morning, except for one mysterious man, and his friend (who happened to be rather grumpy at being so rudely awakened at an ungodly hour on a Saturday) as they watched (well, he watched, she just stood there) a curious quartet.

Four women still in the pose of four stacked rocks as they had been the previous night when they fell asleep. Completely balanced, the silver-haired man was reluctant to upset the pile.

The Sun, however (and not Sun Wu Kong, stowaway and transfer student for the period of the Vytal Festival, but the blazing yellow ball in the sky), had no such compunctions.

When the beam of yellowed light hit the General Store Owner's face, she twitched, and the whole pile came crashing down in a mildly painful huff. A huff accompanied by three over-sized swords suddenly in their owners' hands and surrounding the barely-awake Rose, who was only a half-turn from where she'd been when they'd fallen asleep the night before. One sword behind her head, one between her arms and torso opposite of where Dragon was blearily starting to move to her hands and feet, and one between her currently-splayed legs.

A little bleary-eyed at the rude awakening and filled with grim purpose and determination, she examined their surroundings and her friends.

Right. They were in the infirmary of Beacon Academy. The "Land of the Infirm", in the middle of a place that Rouge herself had described as a bad place for her to be. Great.

There were numerous students here from Beacon, and a few from Torchwood (not Torchlight, no matter how much Rose would still grumble about how they rejected her idea of having both names be for "adult schools", because Torchlight, matching the old video game's placement as a hole in the ground in-game, was a repurposed quarry used for training Mystrali students in their younger days like Signal Academy. If there were Torchlight students, then they'd be in serious trouble, Grimm or otherwise), a few from Haven and Shade (which they'd had almost no effect on, and thus she had no commentary), Ozpin. He was looking amused.

Good for you.

The other three were still standing around Rouge, who was taking a little too much longer than normal to wake up (or she was thinking too fast. Happened before, wouldn't be too surprising), and while her sword may be behind Rouge's head (...maybe she should reconsider how "outside the population" she was living), she had to raise a tired eyebrow at the way that Snow had put her sword between Rouge's legs. Were they having an argument or something? Or was Snow just having "That time of the Month" again?

...Horny but suppressed?

Well, as long as they worked it out, she didn't particularly care. Or Dragon noticing and making a pun. Too tired. Not enough mint tea in the world to handle "Rouge's Issues".

"So Snow," Dragon began, tired but already grinning and Kat knew that it would be a bad morning all around. "I notice that you've got your sword up her skirt." She let her head drop to her sword hilt. "Having trouble getting it up or do I need to do some mouth to-"

"Oh, shut up." Snow snapped as she flipped Ash the bird. "I am _not_ in the mood." She said, not having taken her gaze off of Rouge. Who sighed tiredly at their antics, obviously having been more or less fully awake for the past minute or so.

"I'm not gonna run away right now, Snow."

Ah. Well that _would_ get Angelica in a snit, now wouldn't it? Last time that happened, we all got impaled and Rose was just... She sighed. Rouge was just being "Rose", and trying to keep the enemy away from them. Trying to die for them without the whole "noble cause" thing because she _apparently_ felt she was _destined_ to die alone. "Can we please stop doing this?" She asked, voicing her complaints in English to keep those around from listening in (though, honestly, why the other three think she can't speak common Valian or sometimes _at all_ is both beyond her and more than a little annoying). "It's getting kind of frustrating, dealing with this bullshit day after day, okay?" That too.

"Especially before coffee." Ashley, now called Dragon by preference, muttered to herself in agreement, and she internally copied the gesture. It was almost odd how the four of them didn't bother with their original names outside of extreme situations.

But then you remembered what they'd done, and why she personally had chosen to go by a different name after becoming a Faunus and it's reversed: it's almost odd how they decided to remember those names at all, let alone use them.

"I keep a stash of my powdered energy drinks here at the school by way of Ozzy." Rose offered, probably a peace offering. The semi-hopeful tone of voice kinda went against how they all knew Ashley felt about Rose's concoctions, but from the blonde's grunt and slowly lightening grip on her oversized sword (not a claymore, much too wide to be that aged Scottish weapon, but that was the only historical sword that came to mind looking at it. Was she going through a phase of insecurity and inferiority when she'd forged it?), she had accepted the olive branch.

Well, Ashley always was an easy girl. Easy to like, easy on the eyes, easy to buy for, easy to cook for, easy lay.

All of which she'd put to her advantage, a time or two. Granted, mostly after her fresh start but go figure, she was hot, and those muscles alone made her look downright Amazonian, even without the enhancements they'd suffered by way of Aura (amongst, _other_ things).

When the others made absolutely no move to change the situation or cues for her to follow, Katherine started getting tense from the silence (and a dog whistle she heard in the distance. Ever since the changeover she'd absolutely hated them with a passion because she could _hear_ the high frequency when the others usually couldn't and it _hurt like a **bitch**_ ) and then-

With a quiet "Ting" and a muttered "Sonuvabitch!", she overbalanced as her perfectly normal steel Renaissance Re-creation foil snapped about the blade's midpoint and she stumbled. She made a face at the now shorn blade, silently disgusted at how it survived an Evolutionary Grimm, then died from overexposure to Aura.

Her mutinous thoughts (betrayed only by her placid grimace and twitchy ears) were cut short as Rouge grinned and turned to where Ozymandias (at the door, opened silently. Doors are well-lubricated here) was no doubt continuing to watch their little spectacle. "Hey, Ozzy! Wanna see something cool?"

Her eyebrows shot up and her faced melted completely without her permission at the prospect as her attention moved to her favorite little red-nette (sorta), and in her giddy state and burning cheeks she ended up sounding like a Japanese schoolgirl (which, to her hidden shame, was the sole reason she'd originally learned Japanese fluently for) as she asked (in language and character, of course), "Are we going to do a _thing_ now?!"  
And then she remembered the hidden eroge that she'd never told a soul about. That and Naruto, which she'd ghost re-written here as Ninja's of Love.  
YOU CAN'T SAY IT'S A FANFICTION WHEN IT'S SORT OF THE ORIGINAL SOURCE HERE!

"Of course we're going to do a thing!" Rouge's grin as she rose to her feet nearly matched Ashley's for blinding intensity, and from how her cheeks were starting to feel, she wasn't far behind. Angelica, of course, had on her face of resignment that tried really hard to hide her excitement and happiness. It also _failed_ really hard. She was just as happy as they were. After all, whenever Rouge comes up with a _thing_ , it was always fun, with only one exception in their entire first century of knowing each other. That one turned out really badly, but was funny in hindsight.

With a few quick motions, they gathered in the middle of the room at the far end so as to get the most impact on everyone there. With a few quick motions, Rouge had made a personal set of Speaker Glyphs (basically designed to look like an old-style speaker that she had sometimes tinkered with back when they still in college, a sphere of obsidian and blood red in the middle with a solid cone facing like a very open megaphone towards the people) to amplify her sounds -one at hip-height for the Bass speaker for the low notes and one at head-height for the Tweeter for the high notes-, which had quickly gotten them to contribute their own personal speakers (also color-coded in shiny bronze-and-gold for Ashley, stark-white-and-deep-ice-blue for Angelica, and something deeper than midnight-and-soot-black'n'blue for her own that doesn't _quite_ match Grimm black) and together for a massive one for their individual parts (Ashley doing the part of Timmy and his Trumpet -and if she didn't know better from her own checking after one odd practice day she'd believe that said Dragon-ette had had Concert Band or Tumpet classes in High School-, getting one tweeter with Angelica getting the other for the music's higher notes that would otherwise be computer-generated [Ain't Aura Just Grand?]; then poor high-voiced Rouge (who is thankfully not the Soprano that Angelica actually trained to be once) ended up with one Bass and doing the deep voice of a certain black man, while she herself with her panther genes ended up with the other one and the pounding, unforgiving computer-generated Bass-y low notes of music. Once again, AAJG?) and then, with that formed, they pulled into a line and pulled in a collective breath, both to start it up and to check if all their respective speaker sets were working.

According to her Faunus ears as well as her own human ears, they were about to blast every single living creature in existence away within a fifty-meter-plus radius on sound alone. She grinned and opened her eyes (which, now that she had a good chance to look in this moment of temporary calm, this particular infirmary oddly reminded her of the medical ward of Hogwarts), ready to shatter the morning stillness with a blast.

Surprising everyone currently awake and watching (and startling a few others awake), Snow began to croak out the first strains of the song Freaks by Timmy Trumpet and Savage. Then she (Katherine) began clapping, the sound auto-tuned slightly by their glyphs to sound just like a Snare (because as much as Ashley is their percussionist and highly inventive in a way they sometimes weren't, she'll be slightly busy soon) while going a step or two ahead so that she could watch the other three and they way they always glowed when they did something like this, figuratively and sometimes literally. They turned up their mental volume knobs as that repeat with the snare ended just in time for Rouge to grin insanely (with a slight bit of her nasty streak) and boom out with conviction and _swagger_ , " **The Bass and the Tweeters make the Speakers go to War!** " she rolled her fist-ended right arm in the direction of said speaker glyphs -and both in general- in time with her words and beat, her voice as "Auto-tuned" as her own sudden growling Bass (and Ashley's boots for the bass drum, right-right-left-left to account for their slow pace), and Angelica's mid-Treble. Gesturing at Ashley with open arms and hands for the word Trumpet, " **Ah, the Mighty Trumpet brings the Freaks out on the floor.** "

They turned it up a notch in the repeat as some of the slower to wake began to really move in their beds at the noise, before Ashley came out with her lines for Timmy Trumpet. "Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at?" A repeat, then a small loop of "Freaks at" with a snare "solo" by Blake fooling around with her hands as she flitted around, person to bed to person or whatever else struck her fancy at that moment before Ashley and Rose deeply belted out " **Tell me where the freaks at!** " at the top of their lungs giving way to Ashley pulling up her fist to her mouth as if she were playing a kazoo while auto-tuned trumpet-like sounds came from her speakers and Katherine joined in belting out the Bass.

Yeah, between the heavy bass and the rough croaking of the treble Angelica's and Katherine's throats would probably be complaining the abuse later.

"'Ey!" And Ashley's timing is still impeccable on Timmy's voice.

And then back to the main lyrics! All four of them were bouncing to the beat, truly getting into it now as the performers they'd once been truly came back out to play, the world fading from focus. " **We got that Bass thumping, people jumping, all over the world. We got them speakers pumping Timmy Trumpet for the women with curves!** " At 'curves', Rouge grandly gestured at Ashley, while Angelica did the same thing towards Kathrine, getting a huge blush out of Ashley and Kat felt some heat that could be argued -weakly- as coming from the exertion, slightly threatening to disrupt the performance with the silliness of it all. Still too caught up in the moment, Rouge got more drastic with her expressive arm flailing (which never ceased to amuse her). " **Got their Freak Flow, Freak Show, Welcome to the Circus, let the Leaders Lead, Preachers Preach, _Welcome to the Circus_ , close the Curtains on 'em if they're actin' like they never heard, See we do this for a purpose just to keep that fire burnin'. ****_And we don't need no water let that mother-mother burn! Timmy play your Trumpet let the people go bezerk!_** "

Then there was a moment of psuedo-stillness as Ashely's Trumpet solo began, once again using her fist as a "microphone" (or a kazoo). Times like this made Kat really, _really_ wanna say that she'd played the trumpet in middle/high school. "'Ey!" They began to march again slowly as the Snare and Bass made an appearance before they surprised their audience by going back to the beginning!

Rouge once again singing " **The Bass and the Tweeters make the Speakers go to War! Ah the mighty Trumpet brings the Freaks out to the floor!** " still waving an arm at her personal speaker at hip and head height and a repeat before Ashley again chipped in with "Tell me where the freaks at" and that same loop set from earlier before they all growled out " **Tell me where the Freaks at!** " And they all had some fun a la Gangnam Style the rest of the way to the front of the Infirmary before turning back to the room for the final words. " **The Bass and the Tweeters make the Speakers go to War! Ah the mighty Trumpet brings the Freaks out to the floor!** **The Bass and the Tweeters make the Speakers go to War! Ah the mighty Trumpet brings the Freaks out to the floor!** " They stood for a moment to let the silence of the Grand Pause reverberate before their elation stopped being contained and they busted out laughing, ending up on their butts since, after the battle royale of the previous day they still weren't entirely back at their best fighting shape.

"Oh, man, that was _awesome_!" Ash the Dragon said.

"Yeah, I'd forgotten just how good it was to just _do_ it for the fun of it." Angelica the white added. (why was she being so poetic?)

"Totally amazing!" Kat gushed in Japanese with a grin.

"Oh yeah, we _so_ needed that." Rouge finished for them.

"So what's next on your agenda Little Red Riding Hood, oh Master Planner?" Ashley asked with an exultant grin.

" **BREAKFAST!** " At this shout, anybody not awake from their music jolted awake (and in a few cases, out of their beds). "So, since it is, to some extent, our fault that so many people here are actually, you know, _here_ , we will be making them breakfast, or at least bringing it to them. And we shall start," Rouge began her finale with a flourish, brandishing an, _interestingly_ placed notebook, long with spiral binding at the top, "with these four." She finished by bringing them over to the beds which a group looking remarkably similar to themselves sat. "Dibs on Ozpinhead and the Good Witch of the West, by the way." Rouge added in offhand before looking intently at a girl looking remarkably like Summer Rose with one of her creepy faces. Still a nice kick to see how people react to it at times.

"I got no problem with that." Ashley said as she went to the girl who looked like her.

Seeing the trend, she wandered over to the faunus of the group, trying to ignore Snow's insulted-on-principle-only "Really Rosie? IN your BRA?" as she tried to communicate with the young catgirl (made difficult by how scratchy and catchy her throat was at the moment, due to overuse. She tried to ask vocally, then got annoyed when it turned into a hacking cough. She sighed, then pulled out a pad of stickynotes (never know when they'll come in handy, after all) and wrote a question down.

Her writing slowed, then stopped and eyebrows furrowed, as a thought occurred to her. Using Aura to gubble her voice like they'd done a bit ago could be very harsh on their voices, or more specifically the vocal cords. Especially when recreating dubstep. And during dark times, they tend to sing and play or recreate music often, sometimes as much as every hour or faster, as it helps to push away that darkness. The more drastic the change, such as from melodic normal to someone else versus melodic normal to screaming techno, the harder it was on their voiceboxes, and she tended to give herself the harder parts that none of the others normally go for. Maybe _that_ 's why they think she's practically mute, beyond her normal reserved quiet. Because it happens so often and she's often recovering from their last bout of vocal insanity. She stilled.

Why didn't she think of that _before?!_

...maybe she did, and forgot. Life has been going on for a very long time. It's so easy to let things slip these days, as compared to when they were properly in their prime. A lot to remember, a lot to forget. And it had been a struggle to focus the past few weeks. Why was that?

She stood there for a few seconds, pondering that, then decided to use an old mental trick to remember it, to focus on it until she knew she could call upon it at a moment's notice. She hadn't had to use it in a long long time, but then again, she hadn't forgotten anything, or rather _realized_ that she'd forgotten anything, in much longer.

Assured that she could remember it, and thus try and discover the reasoning later, she put it in the back of her mind, and opened her eyes, face turning friendly. After all, when Rouge voluntells you to do something, then you have been _volun **told**_ _,_ and you _do_ it. It usually helps you anyway.

She pulled off the stickynote and passed it to the amber-eyed girl. She needed to get going if she wanted to get people's orders for brunch or linner!

And then she got momentarily distracted by her sticky-noted conversation with Blake Belladonna, a girl whose name she shares in an eerily familiar way, with whom she shares interests.

* * *

"Rose is probably going to kill someone."

Kat froze. It wasn't often you hear a sentence structured like that so casually, especially considering Rouge as the subject matter, so she made sure that she was paying attention to Angelica as she spoke to Ozymandias. She tried to continue her Rouge-given duty without any other obvious signs of distraction, but given the way Rouge is many days, this easily proved harder than expected.

"Oh? And what brought you to that conclusion?"

"Simple. She's kinda high-maintenance in her usual low-maintenance way. When she's this happy, especially in a place where we're _involved_ , like we haven't been in a long, _long_ time, and even more especially since she's so happy in a place that _she specifically_ noted as a 'no-fly zone' for her, someone tends to die soon after, and I'd put good money on it being that Cinder girl over there, the one with the fake transcripts."

"And why would you say she has fake transcripts?"

"Because I know you would never admit someone who happened to be a _Maiden. Watch_ , but never admit." She spat with vitriol.

"And why would that be?" Ozpin asked, suddenly guarded and a little uncomfortable. Probably from the negative stance.

"We are _old_ , Ozpin. You said it yourself, some time ago, that we're over a century in our occupancy of Vayl alone, and we don't look it. That was exceedingly rare back in the United States of America, and now, after the Collapse? It's downright scary to find someone older than 60, especially amongst those who live outside the walls or those in combat positions, like you and me. We've had to kill Maidens numerous times, often because they'd gone off the rails, or become mass murderers, so we have an understandably _lesser_ opinion of them than you do. Added to that, we've spent so long out in the Grimmlands that eating them is perfectly acceptable social etiquette, and you can see that we have become far less human than we once were, Faunus or otherwise. The fact that we're not worse serial killers than we actually are is almost a miracle. Killing has become our method of coping, beyond chemical 'upliftment' to help us forget when our suddenly perfect memory would not allow otherwise. Blessing and a curse there, both ways. Since she has not only the feel of a mass-murder Maiden, but also has apparently personally antagonized Rose at the store, she's the one who's gonna die."

Considering that fact, Kat decided to move her visit to the White Fang up a bit in her schedule. Idiots need to be told they're idiots, after all. She knew that one from unfortunate experience.

After a bit of contemplative silence, Angelica continued. "I can _feel_ it, you know, the Fall Maiden powers, half-given as they are. I can also feel another near-identical signal nearby, _in_ the castle. One of them _has_ to die, either way. Better to kill the criminal than let the innocent die."

"And what do you propose, then?" Ozpin asked neutrally, no inclinations in his voice, as she knew there wouldn't be any in his face, from experience and being his sounding board. No, instead they'd be in his legs and cane/weapon. That's where you look when he doesn't have a drink to consider. Damn good poker face.

"Well, there's still a few weeks before the Vytal Festival, and the associated tournament, right?"

"Yes." in a neutral, "go on" voice. Makes her really wish she could turn around and openly _stare_ at them. But, Rouge would notice, and she still has to do her job of getting breakfast orders.

"Well, we pick a few people, we train them up, and in the meantime, we get a Watcher to come along. I hear that a dusty ol' Qrow has been teaching his niece, and said niece happens to share a decent resemblance to him and Rose, so why not simply call him up? After all, Ruby needs someone to fuss over her when she's not being taught by Rose, who will undoubtedly take the initiative on this and run with it like a bat outta hell. Beyond that, we leave it up to Rose to plan Cinder's death, and the fates of her conspirators, as she'll no doubt know who they are by the time Qrow gets here, and to keep us occupied and out of Rose's hair, we just have to find students of our own, probably Ruby's teammates, to teach anything and everything we can, and beyond that just hope for the best, and learn all we can."

"You seem very sure of all this."

"Well yeah. I've known Rose practically since she was in diapers. And that's not exaggerating either, she was five when she entered college and shared a dorm with me and two others, who were collectively about seventeen at the time." Yeah, Ashley and myself. Hell of a thing to find yesterday's targets to be tomorrow's roommates. "We've all lost too many people. We aren't about to start gambling with their lives, especially when we start to care."

And wasn't _that_ an interesting discovery, that Rouge would track her down after pulling a disappearing act at 7 years old and drag her back kicking and screaming despite numerous attempts on her life and drug-induced screaming about how she, Katherine, would kill her, Rouge, or that her former associates would, or that a guard would or-

And then finding out that she literally doesn't care. She just wanted her friend and roommate back. And she already knew about the people trying to kill her, and that Katherine had been a former part of them since first meeting. And that if she needed to be tazed and gutted to be brought back then she would do exactly that.

"Very well then." Headmaster Ozpin said in a final, if distracted tone. "I will begin making arrangements."

"You listened and paid attention. That's all I wanted, and more than I honestly expected." Angelica was smiling as she got up from the bed. You could hear it in her voice, and Kathy began to relax again. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, my dear." His smile was just as warm and audible. Made her feel warm to know that Rouge still has her knack for choosing the right street urchins- I'm sorry, _people_ \- to raise and hold close.

"Hey! Gimme back my scroll!"

"NOPE! I BET IT HAS DIRTY PICTURES ON IT TOO~!"

Then again, it doesn't make her any easier to live with either sometimes.

"Hey! NO RABBIT FOOD!"

"Rose, first off, how'd you even hear? Second, while she is a rabbit faunus, that does not make her choice of salads any the worse."

"YES IT DOES! A Salad May Be Perfectly Acceptable for a Scientist In Safety Or An Accountant With No Need For Self-Defense, BUT NOT FOR A GROWING YOUNG WOMAN-SLASH-ATHLETE AND CERTAINLY NOT FOR A HUNTER-IN-TRAINING!"

Angelica just sighed. "Just ignore her. We all do when she's being weird."

"And with much dignity! And strife! And- Hey Dragon, what was that one word your buddies used to describe me when I interrupted your private cosplay?"

The muscular blonde in question sighed. "Kludge."

"Yeah. And KLUDGE!"

Angelica was probably smiling that indulgent-apologetic 'I'm so sorry you have to deal with our little pervert/massacre/creature' smile-face by now. It tends to get a lot of mileage (not because of effectiveness, but because of how often it gets out). "Like I said, just ignore her."

Eye close, breathe in, hold, push out, hold. Eyes open and smile one. What can I get you, mr blind fox?


End file.
